Shadowsblade a Whateley Tale: Written by Shadowsblade

Created for war and forged in pain, dealing with demons within and without.

The cold wind penetrates me to the bone as I walk through the snow-covered plain. My only protection from the wind is a tuxedo I wore for the party. The snow seeps into my shoes causing my feet to burn from the onset of frostbite.

The snowfall was even worse. The winds whipped it as fast as a professional pitcher. The snowflakes pelted me like someone was casting a frost shot spell. All I could do to stand it was clench my teeth and take the pain.

>Branded (Mercy Book 2)

Cain replied to the LORD, “My punishment is too great for me to bear! You have banished me from the land and from your presence; you have made me a homeless wanderer. Anyone who finds me will kill me!”

Brand:

I went inside the flying building and seem them both.

Shadowsblade a Whateley Tale: Written by Shadowsblade

Created for war and forged in pain, dealing with demons within and without.

Not doing anything else, not caring about how her hair looks and I can feel the girls kind of wtf over that and some are a little turned on and don’t get why...okay one of my cousins definitely gets why and being tuned in now I can feel Cheyenne’s mind on the almost guy track of food.

I head out and see Shy talking with Mom and they’re into it and making some kind of sauce not sauce? It’s green and it’s got lots of olive oil and there’s vinegar and I’m thinking cilantro and garlic but they’re talking and taste testing together and Shy’s dipping pieces of baguette in it trying it out and adding things like lemon zest to it and some squeezes of juice then whipping it up again.

It’s good to see them talking and chilling out.

Little steps.

https://pixabay.com/en/cartoon-doodle-sketch-kids-people-10820

The Little Girl Who Lives Down The Lane – Part 13
By Barbara Lynn Terry

Chapter 1 – The extradition hearing is expedited.

Steve Hastings left the jail. He went out to his squad to resume his patrol.

“463 resuming patrol.”

“10-4, 463.”

I wore a dark-green cocktail dress which emphasized the feminine curves which I was developing. My father wore an angry expression; angry that my Mother and Emma had practically forced him to be there, angry at me for the way I looked and acted, angry at Gloria, who he didn’t like, and otherwise just plain angry.

It is time for Mercy to get to know some other trickster mages.
She might learn some new things. Gain some new hope.
But first, she has to teach some cheerleaders that bullying is bad.

We get to the doctors and signed in. It wasn’t long until we are called. They measure Charlie in height, weight, and blood pressure. They ask her if she has any allergies. She has a weird allergy to salmon oddly enough. Finally, we are sent to an examination room.

We sit in silence until Charlie breaks it with “I hate these rooms. The doctors always make you wait too long.”

“I know what you mean. They always like to make you nervous while you wait for them.”

“Do you think it’s an unspoken rule that you have to make your patients wait?”

I was enjoying my new situation. The food at my Aunt’s house was a lot better than at home, and under my Aunt’s supervision I was becoming a quite good cook. The parties my Aunt threw, about one every two months, were spectacular. Aunt Beth hired kitchen staff and maids for the occasion, but still there was a lot for me to do, not that I minded it, since a side benefit was that Aunt Beth wanted me to have a new party dresses or cocktail dresses for each occasion.

My Aunt was a supporter of the arts, and there were concerts and plays to attend, along with art gallery showings. Some times I was even able to get an invitation to bring Steve along. While invitations were extended to Emma she mostly declined, because she had no interest in serious drama or classical music. Even with the social events, my Aunt made sure that I had time to study, so I kept up my grade point average. This meant that there was talk of academic scholarships, which would be necessary if I even hoped to go to college.

Finally my seventeenth birthday was just around the corner. Unfortunately for me, I share a birthday with Adolf Hitler. This caused great merriment among my classmates, who began calling me ‘Adolf’ and ‘der Fuhrer’ much to my chagrin.

The next day

I hear a loud, screeching, “AAAAAAAAAAH” enough to make anyone jump up off the couch and see what’s going on. I turn and see Charlie, or at least I think it’s Charlie, on his butt at the bottom of the stairs. I run to him and crouch down.

“Are you alright, Charlie?”

He turns and stares at me wide-eyed, “So, what Carmilla was telling me was true. You did take me home.”

I smile at him, “Of course, how are you feeling?” He talks to his second self? Interesting.

It started on a rainy summer afternoon when I was seven. My sister Emma is two years older than I am and she and I get along. After lunch we had started playing board games, as we often did when we could not play outside. It was about two in the afternoon when my sister stood up and declared, “I’ve had enough of these board games. Let’s do something fun and different.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“You know, people say we look alike. Let’s see if that is true. Come on up to my room. I’ve got an idea.” I knew that I had a ‘pretty’ face, and had been mistaken for a girl on numerous occasions.

Alaric Stephens was riding his Harley Davidson 2009 model year Fatboy, having just entered the town of Silverhill, Texas and decided to pull into a restaurant and bar that reminded him somewhat of an old English pub with its heavy wooden beams and part wood, part stone walls.

He was a big, sturdy, muscular man, standing 6'2" in stocking feet, weighing about 205 pounds, with a medium brown crewcut. He was clad in a pair of heavy leather pants, a 3XL t-shirt with a picture of a Harley Davidson Fatboy on it, a zipped up worn leather jacket and combat boots.

The caution is not for an actual rape, but an attempted one. There is no caution for attempted rape, so I used that one.

Samuel Thomas Kerrigan sat in his recliner in the living room of his tiny bachelor apartment, staring into a nearly empty long neck bottle. There were dozens of identical bottles scattered across the floor around his chair, and eleven more left in the case he had bought earlier today.

Susannah couldn't believe what she was seeing in the bathroom near the back office and den. There was a fairly pretty, no beautiful, teenage white girl lying slumped against the bathtub and the toilet. A quick check led to Susannah assuming that the strange girl had fainted.

She stared at this girl that shouldn't be here for a few minutes, then noticed the girl seemed to be reviving from the apparent fainting spell.

Susannah glared at the girl and growled, "Just who in the heck are you? And how did you get into this house, you little tramp?"

Winning hearts and minds in Thompsonville

Today really sucked, Nicole thought. All because some idiots valued having a good sports team over the health and safety of people her friends lives were getting worse. A bunch of butt-hurt rednecks had caused this problem. Butt-hurt was a new phrase that she had learned in her D&D group. She thought it aptly described the people that had been causing the problems.

“Mommy, can we go home now? I’m cold.” I asked my mom as we walk through the frozen foods aisle.

“No, baby. You just want to go home and play games.” Mom replied making me blush with embarrassment.

“But, mo-”

A wild man screamed, “DIE DIE DIE!” as an automatic rifle goes off. Everyone screamed and panicked. Mom grabbed my arm and ran to the women’s bathroom. Tears rolled down my face as mom pushed me into a bathroom stall.

My name is Anson Porter Parkness III. I've been a professor at a fairly decent community college for the last fifteen years after working my way up from the lowly level of being an undergrad teaching assistant to the most bigoted, egotistical piece of sh*t I've ever known.

Thankfully, Prof. Jameson was nice enough to retire the year before I got my masters degrees in Education and Modern & Medieval History.

Jem… Chapter 202

Jem…Chapter 202 by Bailey Summers Copyright © 2013 Bailey Summers All Rights Reserved.

This early in the Season the weather was still uncertain. It shifted between summer heat and winter cold. Down on the plains, it had been stifling, but it had grown cool as the trail rose into the foothills of the great range. Karl rode with only his white messenger’s cloak about his shoulders. All the better to show off his muscles, to any farm girls that might happen by. Not that he'd seen any farm girls, not since the lovely Lana, down in the Swift Creek village.

It was the day of Halloween. I had just gotten together my costume and now I’m sitting on my bed thinking of the past, future, and present. Melancholy took me as I thought. Nostalgia swept over me like the gusting winds of autumn. For the past four years, I have been going to Eldritch High school. During that time, I’ve made very little friends as I prefer it like that. Too many friends seemed useless when you can have one or two best friends who actually care for your wellbeing. I have only one friend who has been with me throughout these humble four years of my life.

Dance, dance dance

Love comes in all shapes and sizes. True love is random and mysterious. Love to me revolves around my three siblings, two sisters and one baby brother, and a dainty boy named Dakota.